


End With a Smile

by Chelle1117



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-10
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chelle1117/pseuds/Chelle1117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A good wine, Suit, should start and end with a smile."</p>
            </blockquote>





	End With a Smile

The sun filtered through the large panes, hitting Peter square in his face. He scrunched his face, and turned into the cushion to avoid it.

"Jesus," he muttered. "It's too damned early."

"I think the suit's awake."

Peter opened one eye and traced the location of the voice. "Mozzie."

"Good morning. I trust you had a fine night?"

Peter pushed himself up, out of the sofa cushion and rubbed a hand over his face. His mouth smacked as he opened it to talk, and he snapped in Mozzie's direction. "Please tell me there is something cold and wet to drink up there that has absolutely zero alcohol content."

"There might be."

Peter glared.

"Fine." Mozzie poured a short glass of mango juice and walked it over to Peter, who sipped it gingerly.

"Ugh."

Mozzie nodded. "Mango. Not the pedestrian orange juice you were probably expecting."

"Right," Peter agreed, then downed the rest of the glass. He glanced around, noticing the empty beer bottled and the empty wine bottle. But no Neal. "Where's-"

"Our fearless leader is out right now. He asked me to watch over you. Which I find only slightly odd. Also, what is this," he held up the wine bottle Peter had brought the night before, "doing here. Also, more importantly, why is it empty?" Mozzie sniffed the bottle. "Oh," he said, tone disgusted. "Don't tell me someone actually drank this?"

Peter nodded, smug smile curving one half of his mouth.

"You?" Mozzie asked hopeful.

Peter grinned outright. "Nah. I'm more of a microbrew guy," he said and pointed at the empty bottles.

"So Neal drank this."

Peter laughed. "Yup."

"A good wine, Suit, should start and end with a smile. This," he held the bottle by two fingers as though incredulous that he had to touch it, "does neither of those." Mozzie set the bottle down again and turned to Peter, a serious expression on his face. "He'll do things for you he's never done—probably will never do—for anyone else. I hope you know how valuable his loyalty is. And what it means."

Peter nodded, knowing that to smile then would only serve to end the moment. "I do."

"Hm." Mozzie stared at him a moment, then picked up a strawberry from the breakfast table. "I wonder if you do," then left.

Peter shook his head as he watched Mozzie leave. Glancing at his watch, he figured he'd better call Elizabeth and let her know where he was. He groped for his phone and punched in her number. She picked up after two rings.

"Good morning, beautiful."

He heard the rustle of sheets and a soft sigh. "G' morning. How did last night go? Any leads on your case?"

He nodded, saying, "Actually, yes. I plied Neal with wine-"

"Oh, honey, no," she said, and he laughed.

"I did. And he drank it."

"Poor guy."

"You hush. Anyway, I plied him with wine; I drank all the beer and it was a pleasant, informative walk down memory lane."

"You told him about the mustache."

"Did I not say to hush?" he groused. "Mozzie had a toupe."

"You've got to get pictures!"

He laughed again. "I'll see what I can do. Anyway. I think I'm going to shower here then head on into the office." He paused for a moment. "I missed you last night."

"I know, honey. Me, too."

There was silence, then she said, "But you'll make it up to me, won't you?"

He heard the smile in her words. "You know I will."

"That's all I ask. Now, go get the bad guy." Another pregnant silence. Then, "Peter?"

"Yeah, El?"

"Give Neal a hug for me, okay?"

He sucked in a breath, then said, quietly, "Sure."

**********

Peter was nose deep in the file on Adler, when there came a knock on his door. He glanced up and smiled. "Neal."

"Mornin' Peter. How's the head?"

"Ah. The head is fine. I could ask the same of you."

Neal held up a hand. "No worries."

Peter laughed. "I know the wine was terrible. I'm married to El. If I haven't learned a good vintage by now, then there's just no hope for me."

"This is true." Neal looked askance at him, cheeky grin barely contained. "How did you end up with her again? I mean, you must have won some serious jackpot to land a woman like her."

"Yeah," Peter drew out the word with a grateful smile. He closed Adler's file. "One thing I noticed. Last night, I mean."

"What's that?"

Crossing his arms on his desk, Peter nodded at Neal's chair and waited for Neal to sit down. "That was a terrible bottle of wine. And you had some really good ones nesting in your side bar."

Neal nodded. "I did," absently picking at a loose thread in the upholstery while keeping his eyes on Peter.

Peter noticed the unconscious fidgeting, but didn't break eye contact. "So, I've been wondering. Why'd you drink it?"

A stillness setter over Neal. He even stopped fidgeting. But he didn't speak for a while.

Peter waited him out. He knew all he had to do was sit patiently, eye on Neal, and eventually, he'd get what he wanted.

Neal didn't disappoint.

"You brought it." There was a quiet vulnerability to his voice that Peter noticed and took a breath to comment on, but then Neal continued, "And what kind of host would I be if I didn't accept a gift—rank though it was—from a friend and guest in my home?"

Peter sat back and eyed Neal who bore the scrutiny with a deceptively calm demeanor. No cracks in his armor anywhere, but that Peter could tell the armor was up at all was telling. "Is that all?" he asked and stood up. Heading around his desk, he pulled the blinds closed and shut and locked the door. "Just because I was a guest, you drank that swill?" He approached Neal's chair and stared him down.

Neal looked up at him, blue eyes wide and guileless. "What other reason could there be?"

Sighing, Peter reached out and ran a hand through Neal's hair. He almost smiled when Neal pushed into the caress. "I have an idea, but I need you to say it."

Neal's eyes were closed, and when Peter pulled his hand away, they opened again, and Neal gave him a bashful half smile. "I already did. You brought it. I'd..." he sighed. "I loved Kate, Peter. But you have to know by now that I'd do anything for you."

Peter knelt beside Neal's chair. "Neal."

"I know. I know. You have Elizabeth." Neal leaned back in the chair, avoiding Peter's gaze.

"Yes, I do. But...then there's you, too." Peter chuckled. "And El is an _amazing_ woman." He said it as though there were more and waited until Neal turned to him again. "Come here," he said, and laid his hand on the nape of Neal's neck.

Neal frowned, confused, but leaned forward a little. "What?"

Peter leaned forward, his voice a whisper. "I don't think she'd have a problem with _you_ ," He said, and slowly, tentatively—as though giving Neal plenty of time to back off—placed his lips against Neal's.

Neal was still for a moment, stunned, then his lips parted on a soft groan, and he and Peter were really kissing. Finally.

End


End file.
